Chapter 2

But when he saw the indifference on my face, Dominic's brow drew tight.

"Bianca's still young. Don't quarrel with her. Once she's steadier, I'll send her back to the American branch."

I only nodded. "Alright."

Then I turned quietly and set about making breakfast, moving through the wide kitchen of the estate the way an associate moves through a room that isn't hers.

Watching my solitary figure at the stove, his tone eased a little.

"You always said you missed the porridge my grandmother taught me. Let me make it today."

He busied himself at the counter, but instead of feeling touched, I felt hollow.

We had been promised to each other for eight years, our bloodlines bound before I ever loved him, and in all that time he had never once cooked me a single meal.

Now, with Bianca back in his life, she was the one who got the care, the warm dishes, the hands that softened.

Just as I was about to speak, Bianca came running out of the bedroom, barefoot and giggling.

She clung to Dominic's arm and whined like a spoiled child.

"Dominic, I want the crab and shrimp dumplings from that old place over in the Westfield district!"

That place sat deep in territory the Family only crossed carefully. An hour's drive, and lines out the door on top of it.

I'd once told him I wanted to try it. He'd cut me off cold.

"No. Too far, too much trouble."

But now he just chuckled and tapped Bianca's nose with a fondness he'd never shown me.

"Alright, alright. I'll spoil my little foodie."

Without another word he took her out, and once again I might as well have been furniture.

I finished cooking alone, the way I always did.

Calmly, I picked up my phone and canceled the appointment for our betrothal portraits, the ones the Families expected before a blood-bound union.

Just after I hung up, a sharp pain tore through my lower abdomen.

I collapsed to the floor, curled up in agony, and instinctively called Dominic.

The phone rang and rang before he finally answered, his voice laced with irritation.

"Adriana, enough already. Can't you see Bianca's still hungry? I don't have time for this. If it's important, text me."

"Dominic, I—"

Before I could finish, he hung up.

Everything went black.

When I opened my eyes again, I was already in the hospital. An ambulance had brought me in, no soldier at my side, no one from the Family standing guard at my door.

The doctor said I had miscarried, that I had lost the child, and that I would need to rest properly from now on.

That night in the hospital, Dominic called.

"Why haven't you come home?"

I didn't even hesitate. "Family business. I'm working late."

He didn't question it. He only said, "Bianca's staying at the house these days. If you come in late, don't disturb her rest."

Before, no matter how late I worked, he had never once called to check.

Now the only thing that worried him was whether I might trouble Bianca's sleep.

He never called again that night.

I could guess well enough how he spent it, and with whom.

The next morning I was discharged and went to collect my medication.

At the entrance I saw Dominic holding Bianca up. She looked frail and pitiful, both hands pressed to her stomach, leaning her whole weight against him.

Dominic caught sight of me and his brow dropped at once. He came forward.

"Adriana? You here to see a doctor too?"

There was displeasure under the words, as if he suspected I'd been tailing them, as if I were some rival's eyes on his back.

I looked at him calmly. "Yes. My cycle's been painful. I came to see the doctor."

His expression stiffened. Remembering, no doubt, how he'd put me out on the roadside two nights ago.

Seizing the moment, Bianca sank further into his arms. Her fingers rose to the base of her throat, and she let out a small, trembling breath before there was anything at all to fear.

"Adriana came to the hospital all by herself? Then it can't be so serious."

She turned to him, eyes brimming.

"Dominic, I'm useless, aren't I? When it hurts I can't even walk. You always have to carry me."

His face went soft in an instant.

"If it hurts, you tell me. I'll stay right beside you the whole time. Alright?"

He steadied her gently and they moved on ahead together.

Then, as an afterthought, he turned and looked back at me.

"Come on. I'll have you driven home," he said, the way a man tosses tribute to someone beneath him.